I watched with some confusion as the G7 group meandered here and there in southern Alberta recently. At first I was hopeful there might be a chance those meetings of the world’s powerful people might shine a light on where we’re all going. But I watched as they stood together and then apart, smiling and scowling, agreeing and ignoring, and finally one took off early. That’s when I wondered if they even knew what they were doing, and wondered what we should be doing.
I recalled the images of a hippie sticking a flower in the gun of an officer during a 1960s protest and thought that might be a good idea. Or maybe we could gather the local Raging Grannies and write a rousing peace song. Or maybe they needed a fresh loaf of banana bread so that wholesome goodness could fortify them for their big tasks ahead. But, as things unfolded in that couple of days, I came to the conclusion that they should all gather at a yoga class.
If they didn’t learn how to get along with one another and find ways to work things out when they were in kindergarten, then surely they would in yoga class! Everyone arrives to the yoga studio with a smile on their face, we greet one another in hushed tones and then sit down quietly on our little mats. We focus our attention on what our instructor tells us to do and we blot out any other actions in the room that might distract us from our core purpose for being there. We remember to breathe. We wiggle our waggles away.
We bend and stretch and reach for the stars, and then we lay down and have a little nap. We close our practice with a final gesture of respect and goodwill to everyone in the room. If we have borrowed a yoga block or bolster, we put them back where we found them. We watch for cars as we make our way together from the quiet studio into the busy parking lot. And then we wish each other well as we carry on with the tasks at hand in our own little worlds.
Everything I need to know I learned in yoga class.
Namaste!